Tribute Intros Part III
Octavia, Ebony, Arti, Lark
Octavia Branshaw, 18
District Two
"It really wouldn't bother you, though? Not having a district partner?" Lyric's voice was concerned – almost pleading. Almost as if she wanted Octavia to give her an excuse to plead with the boys again, ask them if they'd reconsider their decision not to volunteer.
Octavia shrugged. "If they're too scared to volunteer, that's their choice."
Lyric flinched. "I wouldn't say they're scared. They're just wary. After what happened last year…"
"After what happened last year, 'wary' would be taking care to stay with a group – or at least with a partner. 'Wary' would be not letting your guard down in the Games. 'Scared' is not volunteering at all. If they're so worried about dying, then it should have been a problem all along, and I'm better off without them anyway. How much good did your district partner do you?"
Lyric ignored the question because she knew the answer. The answer was none. "It's not just dying," she reasoned. "It's how you die that—"
"Dead is dead."
"Look, I'm just trying to give you your best chance."
Octavia chuckled. It was funny, really. The girl was a Victor. The second Victor in her family, after her brother the year before. And it still wasn't enough for her. She was still unsure of herself, trying to convince herself that she had what it took to mentor as well as win. Desperate to bring home a Victor. It was amusing, really.
It was almost endearing.
"What makes you think my best chance isn't alone?" Octavia teased. "Think I can't cut it?"
"Of course not. You're the best in your class. You always have been. You were our first choice even before people began to drop out. And I … I know you can do this."
Octavia flashed a smile. "Then what's the problem? The way I see it, it's a win-win. If no one volunteers, that means someone gets reaped – someone who's not ready, who could never be ready, so I get you all to myself, and you don't have to feel guilty about not paying proper attention to whoever my district partner was going to be."
Lyric shifted uncomfortably. "What makes you think I'd pay you more attention?"
Octavia couldn't help a laugh. "Oh, come on. All the extra training sessions we've been having recently? You've always paid me more attention. You know I'm your best chance."
"Right." There was something in Lyric's voice. Something odd. "I guess I'll see you at the reaping, then."
Octavia clapped her mentor on the back. "That's the spirit. If someone volunteers, they volunteer. If they don't, they don't, and we'll work with it. It'll make for an interesting Career pack, in any case."
This time, it was Lyric's turn to chuckle. "Octavia, you're volunteering. It was always going to be an interesting Career pack."
Ebony Timberough, 18
District Seven
"That's a new skirt, isn't it," Adrian commented as he and Ebony made their way through the woods and back towards the district square.
Ebony nodded, trying to keep from rolling her eyes. "Grandmother made it for me. She says it'll help me look more ladylike." She smiled, well aware that her close-cropped hair and job as a woodcutter didn't exactly scream 'lady' to most people. But long hair always seemed to get in the way, and her job put food on the table. More importantly, she liked them both. She liked who she was, even if she wasn't the proper lady her grandmother might have wanted.
Adrian chuckled. "Decided to humor her, huh?"
Ebony nodded. "It's my last reaping, after all. When's the next time she'll have an excuse to say I should get dressed up?"
Adrian shrugged. "Your birthday?"
"Who gets dressed up for their birthday? Three-year-olds?"
"Lucretia does," Adrian offered.
Ebony made a face. Adrian's twin sister didn't like her, and the feeling was mutual. Lucretia thought Ebony was taking advantage of Adrian, leading him on, toying with his feelings. Ebony shook her head. She was doing nothing of the sort. She and Adrian were friends. There was no reason they had to be anything other than that, and Adrian had completely agreed every time the subject had come up.
Still, she was Adrian's sister. Family was family. Her own family certainly wasn't perfect, either. After her father and older brother had died in a fire that had swept through part of the district, her mother hadn't been able to get over the loss, and it was now up to her grandmother to take care of her mother while Ebony was at work.
Ebony glanced around at the crowd as the two of them neared the square. Her mother probably wasn't even there. Probably still at home, sitting in bed or at the kitchen table, staring at nothing. She wished there was something she could do to help her mother move on, but most days, it was all she could do to put food on the table. She'd even had to take tesserae a few times when food was scarce, just to have enough to get by. She hadn't told her mother about that, though; she would blame herself for not being able to contribute, and that would make things even worse…
Just one more year. She just had to get through one more reaping. This was Adrian's last year, as well. And Lucretia's. Then they could go on with their lives. Things wouldn't be perfect, but they would be better without the shadow of the Games looming over them. Just a little longer, and they wouldn't have to worry about the Games ever again. Just a little longer.
Arti Aveneuro, 16
District Ten
"Look, kid, all you have to do is answer the question. What is your name?"
Arti stood up, shaking, from where the hunters had dumped her at another man's feet. A man in uniform, which meant he was probably in charge. "Arti," she repeated. "My name is Arti."
"Your last name. Who are your parents?"
Arti said nothing. She couldn't. If she gave them her last name, they would know who her mother was, and then she would get in trouble. She had broken the rules, not raising Arti in the district, but in a small cabin in the woods nearby, where no one would find her. No one had known she existed until today.
She hadn't meant to get caught. She had been following a deer when the hunters had found her. "Poaching's against the law in any case," said one of the other men nearby. "Maybe a few lashes will make her a little more talkative." He raised a whip threateningly. "If not … well, there's more where that came from."
One of the others shook his head. "We don't have time for that right now. The reaping's in a few minutes. We can keep her until after then, give her time to think…"
One of the other men brightened up. "The reaping. That's it." He turned to Arti. "If you don't give us your last name, we'll just flood the reaping bowl with your first name. Don't need a last name to become a corpse in the Games."
Arti froze, trembling. The Games. Her mother had told her horror stories about the Games. Could they really do that? Pick her just because she was being uncooperative? That wasn't fair. But her mother had spent the last sixteen years telling her that people were unfair. There was nothing to stop them. Nothing to protect her.
But she could protect her mother.
Arti folded her arms over her chest. "Do it, then. That's Arti with an 'I' – A-R-T-I."
The man in charge laughed. "Poor thing probably doesn't even know what the Games are." He turned to one of the others. "Go on, then, Slate. Go find whoever's in charge of filling the reaping bowl and give them the news." He turned back to Arti. "You have no idea what you just did, do you."
Arti said nothing. She did know. They were going to send her into the Games. People died in the Games. Except the ones who didn't. The ones who won.
The ones like her mother.
Lark Lucas, 18
District Twelve
The nightmares woke him before dawn. Lark sat up in the dark, breathing hard, trying to get the images out of his mind. Wolf mutts – the ones that had attacked when he and his parents had fled from District Eleven when he was only a small child. They'd made it to the woods on the border of District Twelve, but that hadn't been enough. Wolf mutts had killed both of his parents, and had nearly killed him, as well.
Lark ran his fingers over the scar on his cheek. They hadn't killed him, though. He was alive, and he had a new family. His older brother Sean was the one who had found him in the woods, injured and terrified and weeping over the bodies of his parents. Sean and his parents had taken Lark in, and they had never been anything but kind. Still…
Still, he couldn't help wondering about whether he still had any family left in Eleven. He had been so young when they'd left, he couldn't remember much. He remembered that the sun was hotter. The fields were more open, the buildings more crowded. But details … those were something else. He couldn't even remember his parents' faces, let alone anyone else.
Lark shook the thought from his head as he got to his feet and headed to the kitchen. It looked like he was the first one awake, so he might as well make breakfast. It was reaping day, which meant none of them had to get up early to go to work or school, which should have made things better. But in a way, it was even worse. There was nothing he had to do. Nothing to distract him from his thoughts.
"Lark, what are you doing up?" came a voice from the next room. Sean.
Lark shrugged absently. "Oh, you know, don't want to waste the one day of the year when we don't have to run around getting things done."
But Sean knew him better than to buy that. "It was the wolves again, wasn't it."
It wasn't really a question. He knew. Sean was the only one who knew how bad it got sometimes. He didn't want to bother anyone else, but Sean never seemed to mind. "I just … I just wish I knew the whole story," Lark said quietly. Why had his parents chosen then to try to escape? Had they left any family behind? Why had they gone alone? What had been so bad that they would risk dying in the wilderness just to get away? Why had they been headed towards District Twelve, of all places? It wasn't as if things were much better here.
Lark shook his head. He would probably never find out. But he couldn't help wondering just the same, couldn't help wishing for answers. Answers he would probably never get.
